


Stupid

by sillythings



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Some mentions of violence, post-coital regret, sad renji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 23:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17755367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillythings/pseuds/sillythings
Summary: Takes place during Renji and Rukia's separation





	Stupid

Rukia ran right past him on the street and did not even look up. She trotted after her lieutenant with the faithfulness of a loyal lap dog and did not even notice Renji standing there outside of the bar where the Squad 11 officers were meeting for drinks.

“Rukia!” bellowed the lieutenant of the 13th squad. Tall, handsome, and exuding power, he was an intimidating sight. 

He was also an asshole, as far as Renji was concerned.  The stray dog had not given Rukia up to be a simpering pet for the nobility.  It was bad enough Kuchiki had her under his command, but this hurt Renji’s heart to see Rukia, who bowed to no one in the Rukongai, ducking her head respectfully as she answered her superior.

“Yes, Sir Kaien!”

“Told ya to keep up.  You don’t have to walk that far behind me!” Lieutenant Shiba  barked, but he was grinning and his blue eyes twinkled at her.

“Of course, Sir Kaien!” She called out, a blush staining her cheeks as she drew closer to her lieutenant. Shiba reached out to tousle her hair, and Renji felt his guts clench when he saw the starry look she gave her lieutenant.  

Renji hated officers like Kaien Shiba, the ones who had money and power but acted like they were just one of the squad, slumming with the inferiors and acting like all their privilege was nonexistent or something to just be shrugged off.  Shiba might hail from a fallen noble clan, but Renji had to wonder what fallen even meant when the Shibas still had money, family, power and the respect of everyone except maybe the other noble clans. 

Renji preferred the likes of Byakuya Kuchiki. As much as he loathed the man for taking Rukia away from him, he at least was honest.  He was richer than most, more powerful and talented than most, but he never pretended he was not. Despite the fact that he already stood head and shoulders above most in the Gotei 13, Kuchiki continued to strive to better himself.  For him, his wealth and status meant he had a burden to try even harder and serve as an example of what true excellence could be. He was an arrogant asshole, to be sure, but at least Kuchiki showed you where the bar was set, showed Renji how high he had to climb to ever have hope of beating him.

People like Kaien Shiba pretended the bar didn’t even exist.

And for someone like him, it did not.  To Renji, who spent every day conscious of his struggle to rise,to be faced with a man who pretended that the class lines did not exist so long as you all shared “heart” and “friendship” was full of shit.

Renji was disappointed that Rukia did not seem to realize this.  

Rukia had fought in the same streets as he did.  She should recognize that her pack leaders were weak.  Ukitake was sickly and an absentee captain who had to work on Shiba for years before he gave in and finally took the responsibility of being lieutenant.  What kind of fool refused such a thing? Sir Kaien with his family and power could not understand the heart of one who had to fight for every mouthful of water, every ember of warmth, every scrap of trust.  

With these bitter thoughts running through his head, Renji watched Kaien Shiba and Rukia disappear around the corner, and just like that, Rukia was gone.  The first time he had seen her in months, and she did not even look at him.

“Well, well, Abarai,” Ayasegawa  sidled up to him. “What’s with that face?”

Renji cursed himself for letting anything show.  That was how you got your ass kicked in Squad 11.  Not that he would mind a good fight right now. He would relish smashing in someone’s face.

“Ah, the kid just needs a drink,” Madarame came up on the other side.  “Let’s go get plastered.”

 

 

* * *

 

Several hours and several drinks later, Renji was trying to content himself with the knowledge that at least he had  _ seen  _ Rukia and that she looked well.  She had finally lost that haunted look.  He had hated to see her so grief-stricken for so long after her adoption, after he had let her go -- not that most would realize her desolation.  She was as cool as ice, but he knew her, knew her better than he knew himself, maybe. Renji knew how she got lost in her own head, blaming herself for every wrong step.  For a long time after her adoption, when Renji caught glimpses of her, he could see her pain in the tension of her jaw and the stiffness of her shoulders even as her face was as smooth and bland as any good Kuchiki’s should be.  

But tonight, there was a light in her eye and some vitality in her step.  He should be happy that she was finding some joy again, even if it wasn’t with him.

But he wasn’t happy.  

At all.

He sighed and took a reflective sip from his drink when he felt a warm hand on his arm.

“You know, Abarai,” said a melodic voice in his ear.  The 14th seat with the long brown hair leaned close to Renji. “You’re pretty stupid.”

Renji frowned at the girl smiling into his face.  There was only one girl he had ever tolerated that kind of insult from, and she had trotted off on the heels of Kaien Shiba earlier that evening.

“You tryin’ to start a fight, Yamada?” he snarled at her.  The party was winding down, but it was still a rowdy scene.  The officers were all various stages of intoxicated, and the 11th squad did not need much provocation at the best of times to throw down.  He was more than willing to put this upstart in her place.

“I’m trying to start  _ something, _ stupid,” she grinned at him and ran a finger down his forearm to his wrist where it stayed, making soft circles on his skin.  The drunken flush on his cheeks deepened as he realized she was flirting with him. He stared down at that delicate callused finger gently brushing the hair on his arm.

Renji was a likeable fellow, and he knew girls tended to admire him, liked to look at him at least, and he was arrogant enough to enjoy the attention, flashing a smile and playing the gallant when it suited him to do so.  It was a talent that served him well on the streets of Inuzuri. A beguiling smile was as good as a well-timed punch in the right situations. Rukia had been terrible at turning on the charm. She was much better at crying on cue and using pity to get what she wanted, but Renji was a natural charmer.  Between the two of them, they had developed quite a powerful toolset for surviving most any situation.

As much as he sometimes enjoyed acting the ladies’ man, it was mostly a remnant of his old survival instinct.  His heart was carefully closed up in an iron box within his chest, a box with Rukia’s name engraved on it. Whatever the other members of the Gotei 13 might know in terms of details, Renji did not care to think about.  Certainly, those that attended the Academy with him knew that he and Rukia were more than friends. Kira and Hinamori definitely knew. What was clear to most was that despite his easy, flirty smiles and gentle innuendoes, no woman truly had a chance with Renji. And that was the way he liked it.  No expectations. No disappointments.

Anzu Yamada, though, was not the type to take no for an answer, and she had decided that it was high time this handsome Abarai fellow took notice that there were other women in the world besides Rukia Kuchiki.

Yamada was a pretty girl, with her silky hair and laughing brown eyes.  She was tough, too. She had lovely skin draped over an iron will, and she was tall enough to kiss without breaking his back.  Not that Renji ever minding bending over for Rukia. Still, if Renji had a type of girl other than Rukia, Yamada might be it. 

Yamada definitely enjoyed a challenge, never fearing to take on the the more powerful officers during sparring sessions, and she had been able to knock his spine out of place on the training grounds a couple of times.  In his drunken haze, he considered other ways Yamada might snap his spine back into place outside of the dojo. He gave her a very obvious once-over. Her laughing brown eyes were very lovely.

“So, why am I stupid?” He gave her a lazy grin, his eyes hooded seductively.  It was his standard flirt, the one that made the girls blush and quickly look away.  His pointy toothed grin promised fire and raw power, and most of the girls bold enough to make eye contact with him quickly realized they were not quite ready to take on such a passion.  Not like Rukia, who had met him eye to eye, accepting all that he could give and more, giving as good as she got.

But Yamada met his look with a direct one of her own, and licking her bottom lip, she answered.

“Well, here you are, with a warm and living girl right here next to you,” she scooted closer to emphasize her words.  Her shoulder now brushed his. “And you sit mooning over your cup.” There was mischief in her glance.

She lowered her voice confidentially.  “Tch. Let me tell you a secret, memories of girls are not nearly as interesting as having a real one.  Memories don’t keep you warm during the cold nights, now do they?” Her fingers stroked the skin of his arm slowly, up and down.

Renji felt something inside him crack, though he kept his easy smile.  He thought of holding Rukia during the long cold nights in Inuzuri. Rukia, with her snow white skin and moonlit eyes.  She was cold and boney, but when they came together, she melted against him, as soft and warm as honey.

And Rukia had not even met his eye today.

And it was a very cold night.

And Renji had not been touched gently in so long.  

Momo had been the last woman to touch him with something akin to affection, hugging him goodbye when he had been transferred so unexpectedly to the 11th squad.  From that point on, he had no one to offer him any form of tenderness. 

He spent the first few months in his new squad fighting and trying to stay out of the brig.  Squad 11 was brutal, and he had to establish his dominance with his fists and his blade. It was like Inuzuri all over again, but worse.  He expected such brutality in the streets. Here in the Seireitei, it was supposed to be more civilized. It had come as a horrifying shock to realize the nightmare of his childhood had followed him into his new life.

At least in Inuzuri, if he got his ass kicked, he had Rukia to bathe his wounds and kiss his forehead.  Now, when he lay down in his lonely, narrow bunk with a split lip and busted knuckles, all he had was a barracks full of indifferent, snoring men for company.  Bruised and bleeding, he would remember the sweet comfort of Rukia’s arms around him, her soft breasts against his chest, and her hands tangled in his hair. The longing for her softness and comfort burned within him at those times, so painful he could have cried.

But he did not.  He could not. To cry in Squad 11 was a certain suicide.  Weakness would not be tolerated. So, he swallowed it down, ate his rage and his fear and turned it into the energy that would allow him to grow strong, to rise in the ranks and eventually take down the man who stole her from him.  

Byakuya Kuchiki.

By the time he had achieved the sixth seat, he had given up fantasizing about Rukia’s sweet lips whispering encouragement in his ear.  He tried to forget the pressure of her legs around his waist as he sank into the hot silk of her. He buried deep the memory of their timid confessions.   _ I love you, love you, love you forever. _

Instead, he thought of smashing Kuchiki to the ground with his blade, imagining the cool impassive face grimacing with fear and pain.  Renji fantasized how he would make Kuchiki kneel when he finally surpassed him.

And what the hell.  While he was at it, he’d smash Kaien Shiba’s face, too.  

But those violent thoughts flew out of his head when Yamada dropped a hand under the table and ran a warm hand up his thigh.  He was so lonely. So starved for a touch that did not leave him broken and bleeding. 

In the end, he did not put up much of a fight at all.

 

* * *

 

Back in the squad 11 barracks, Renji quickly undressed and crawled into his cold bunk.  He could still smell her on his skin. 

Yamada was a nice girl.  He thought they could even be friends, even after...after all, but it would never be more.  He felt ashamed and lost. Renji thought about the Hollows he had slain. He wondered how it felt to be hollowfied.  Did it begin with the cold lump in their chest and the pinpricks of ice in their belly? Renji’s eyes burned and he felt queasy.  

He wanted to cry, but he settled for throwing up.  He ran to the latrine, and if a few tears escaped as he barked up the contents of his stomach, well, that happened sometimes, right?  None would be the wiser. He knelt on the cold floor for a very long time, hunched over a basin, waiting for his stomach to settle and for his ragged breathing to calm.  He felt like he had thrown up everything inside him. All the rage. All the fear. All the love. All the hope he had for a better life, for returning to Rukia’s side. He was completely empty.

Eventually, he stood on shaking legs and washed his face and rinsed his mouth before steeling himself to return to his bed.

He had just settled back in when he heard a familiar growl overhead.

“Hey, Abarai, can’t hold your sake so well, hey?” Madarame groaned from his bunk.  “Gotta wake up the whole squad?”

“Sorry,” Renji croaked, praying that he would not have to prove himself against anyone tonight.  He had already lost one battle. He did not have it in him to face anyone else. He was a fool to think he could ever best anyone.  He would never be able to defeat Kuchiki. He would never be able to rise to Rukia’s level. He could not even stand up to a 14th seat intent on seduction.  

“My, my,” came the slow drawl of Ayasegawa from his own bunk.  “It must have been some night.”

“Yeah,” choked Renji.  “It was somethin’.” Something he would like to forget.  He didn’t think it was possible to hate himself anymore than he already did, but here he was.  What was the point of even going on? He allowed himself the pleasure of imagining not waking up in the morning, never waking up again, at least not in this world.  This bleak thought was interrupted by Ayasegawa speaking up again.

“I’ve often found that those somethings really don’t amount to much at all,” came the affectedly disinterested voice out of the dark. “Hardly worth worrying about, really.” 

“Yeah,” Madarame’s growl filtered down from the bunk above, “We all lose one once and awhile.  Tomorrow will be a new battle.”

Renji choked out a bitter laugh.  “Yeah? What would you know about it?”  Hot tears were leaking out of the corners of his eyes, but in the darkness, no one would know.  He could blame it on his hangover if questioned.

“Me? Nothing at all, but if yer finished pukin’ your guts up,” came Madarame’s harsh voice from above, “get to sleep. I’ve been thinkin’ -- “ the voice paused for a moment.  “--I might have some time tomorrow morning for a little practice.”

“What for?” Renji asked, his eyes burning.  As far as he was concerned, he may not even get up in the morning.  Let Kenpachi beat him to death for insubordination for all he cared.

There was a beat of silence.

“Well, you can hardly beat Kuchiki’s ass without bankai,” came the reply.  “Now shut the hell up and go to sleep.”

And there it was.  Hope flared bright in his chest, pushing aside some of the darkness that filled him.

He really was so fucking stupid.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, I am 99% certain Renji was utterly faithful to Rukia during their separation, but I decided to explore this angsty piece and make myself sad.


End file.
